Based on Antigone by Sophocles
Dear woman at the grave…
You fling dirt
So sporadically
So obsessively
I do believe you make an art of it
This showcase of grief
This display of defiance
Would they have done as much?
Dug until their fingers bled?
Patted the earth softly on top of you?
Dear woman at the grave…
Do you know you dig your own?
Your father’s eyeless head haunts you still
Perhaps you wish for blindness too?
Maybe a greedier heart to evoke
Some preservation of self?
A child born from curses and deception
Can hardly hope to last
And you know this
Dear woman at the grave…
Take care and remember those hearts still alive
The ones who will not last long without you
I do believe you have forgotten
The kinder emotions while executing
Your duty for the dead
Recall love in your lust for justice
Dear woman at the grave…
You are so much yourself
There is no point in interference
I do believe your thoughts are clear
A mind coerced by chants of repeated demands
Your limbs must follow
Bury my brother
Bury myself
Bury the bane of this blood
Dear woman at the grave…
How little you think of your actions
How ignorant you are to the spinning wheel
Of legacy
How blind you yourself have become
To the violent act
Of flinging dirt on bone
By Kallen Mohr
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